Member Poem

I revel in the snow,
sheer joy of its presence,
trickling down my face,
there is nothing to compare to it,
as I walk with  caution,
whilst at the same time,
there is this sense of abandonment,
on snow clad city footpaths,
one must exercise caution,
yet one must exercise,
if and when the sun appears,
the icicle on trees melt,
almost as if they are weeping,
this liquid blob unfolding,
on gates, fences, railings, window ledges,
modes of transport aren’t exempt,
nor should they ever be,
natures fleeting coat of paint,
I can sense this pathos following me,
yet right before my eyes,
I have this gift of sight,
and all my other senses too,
the faculties that empower experience,
but not just for which I’m grateful,
so eternally grateful for this privilege,
yet Christmas is now in transit,
and this undercurrent palpable is rife,
the heart of urban zeitgeist still pulses,
on the  windswept faces of its citizens,
as children rub their hands,
as they anticipate the season’s flurry